


gotta go my own way

by jaimelanniser



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, High School Musical AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 06:10:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12292953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimelanniser/pseuds/jaimelanniser
Summary: It's so hard to say, but I gotta do what's best for me, you'll be okay.





	gotta go my own way

The dark red silk of Cersei Lannister’s dress looked like blood in the candlelight. Brienne approached her, doing her best to keep her countenance as she stepped up in front of her.

Cersei gave her a smile that felt like spiders creeping up the back of her neck. “Brienne,” she greeted her, folding her hands in front of her body like a satirical version of the Virgin Mary. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Cersei,” Brienne began, looking down at the blonde, all fine dresses and elaborate hairstyles, eyes dripping poison. “I know you think you’ve done this out of spite for me, but I beg you to think about the rest of the young people who’ve been practicing for weeks for the tournament.”

The smile didn’t waver from her face, and Cersei only tilted her head to the side, as if amused by her. “The young people will have their own tournament to participate in, and their own prizes. It’s certainly more fair, don’t you think?” she asked, sweetly.

Brienne knew that this wasn’t about fairness. It wasn’t about levelling the playing field or giving everybody more chances of winning when they didn’t have to compete across all ages. This was about separating her from her brother. Despite popular opinion, Brienne wasn’t thick, or stupid, or clueless. Perhaps she wasn’t the most cunning, but she was observant enough to realise the real reason behind Tywin Lannister changing the rules for the annual tennis tournament.

“You’ve separated Tommen from Margaery Tyrell, you’ve done the same with Arya Stark and the Baratheon boy, and myself and Jaime are--”

“My  _brother_ ,” Cersei interrupted her, smile fading from her face and eyes narrowing like daggers at her. “Will now be my partner, like we were meant to be. You will take a step back and realise that you are only dragging him down. Interfering with his legacy, with our family traditions, with his very  _core_ , and you’re too  _dumb_  to realise how better off he is without you.”

Clenching her teeth tightly, Brienne lifted her chin a fraction, even though Cersei was shorter than her -- she refused to be intimidated. “What Jaime chooses to do is up to him, I assure you I had no part in his decisions. Whatever problems you might have with it are between you and him,” she spoke quietly but firmly. “But you are messing with my friends, and my life, and that’s not okay with me.”

The smile was back, though it was more of a smirk now, and Cersei came up close to her. “You don’t like the fact that  _I won,”_  she hissed.

Brienne gave her an incredulous look. “What’s the  _prize?_ Jaime?” Cersei’s eyes flashed. “The cup? You have to go through all this just to get either one!?” She took a deep breath and let it out. “No, thank you, Cersei. You’re very good at a game that I don’t want to play. So, I’m done here.”

She took a step to leave before hesitating, turning back to the sneering blonde. “But you should step away from the mirror long enough to check the damage that will always be right behind you.”

Not waiting to get an answer from Cersei, Brienne turned around to leave, and noticed Jaime standing there, some feet away, his expression concerned. Lips pressed together, she turned to leave the courtyard.

Behind her, she heard Cersei snapping, “Jaime!” and when she was halfway up the stairs to the terrace felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey,” his voice was close to her ear and she stopped, turning to face him. Jaime’s eyebrows were drawn together on his forehead. “What was that about? What do you mean, you’re done here? I mean, you can’t quit.”

She let out a breath, glancing away from him because she couldn’t bear to look in his eyes right now. “Partnering up for the tournament sounded good but things change,” she told him. “The tournament is a big deal for Cersei and evidently for your future so it’s alright. Make it happen. Go be the Lannister dream team.”

Jaime stepped up on the stairs next to her into her view, not moving his hand from his shoulder. “I don’t want the Lannister dream team,” he told her urgently. “I want to play with you. I want to  _win_  with you.”

“Well, we can’t anymore, Jaime,” she looked down at him to say. “Your sister changed the rules. There’s a separate tournament for under 25s.”

“Fuck my sister!” Jaime reached down to grab her hand, tugging her to face him.

Brienne’s eyes widened at his exclamation. They were words she never expected him to say. “Fuck your sister...?”

“This isn’t about the tournament, Brienne, I could give a shit about winning a cup with my family’s name on it,” he muttered at her, his eyes not leaving hers. “I meant what I said. About training, and going on runs, and just... being together.”

They were nice words, she knew. There was a part of her that wanted to reach for his face, like she always wished she could. But he was a Lannister. The golden boy Lannister. And no matter how good his intentions were, rules were rules.

“I’m sure you did, at the time,” she responded, taking her hand back from his. “But I also meant what I said. I want to play to win. But not like this, Jaime.” Brienne took a step back, forcing herself not to mind Jaime’s expression, and swallowed. “I have to go.”


End file.
